Do Werewolves Go To Heaven?
by AdequateLexicon
Summary: Feliciano is a werewolf, raised by his demon brother Lovino and mixed-blood friend Antonio to be wary of anything with fangs. One night, he meets a vampire that he has a bit of trouble staying away from. Pairings inside. M for language and slight gore.
1. Prologue

AN: Pairings include GerIta, hints of Spamano, hints of AusHun, PruHun, and there's some PruAus, too...but if you blink, you'll miss it.

Hope you enjoy the story :D

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><p><strong>Do Werewolves Go To Heaven?<strong>

His birthday was March 17th. As it happened, it was the day he was born-but it was also the day he was turned, and had he been turned on some other day, then he would have probably considered that to be his birthday. It had been merely luck that the days had coincided.

Feliciano considered lycanthropy to be a typical facet of everyday life. Because really, he didn't think about it that much. Sure, once a month he'd have to worry about it, because he was never really prepared for it. He had his Moons marked on his calendar, but he would never seem to notice the little black circle printed neatly above the number until it was on the edge of 'too late'. What a mess it would be-he'd be scurrying around the house making sure his safe room was, indeed, safe; leaving out food to consume in his 'wild state'; most of all, making sure his restraints were neatly hanging against the wall as they always were. But other than that, he rarely remembered that he was a lycanthrope. It had been _how _many years now? So long ago it had been, that day he had been turned. It was something most people didn't know about lycs; like vampires, they lived a long time (even though, sometimes to his chagrin, he still looked about 17 or 18 years old). Not forever, of course, but even still, he considered it an incredible gift. And anyway, as his brother often said, it was quite a miracle that he hadn't been shot, or otherwise killed. Somehow he had exceeded everyone's expectations by living.

There were a lot of things he liked about it, in fact. Food tasted better-_so _much better, that even smelling it was almost like tasting it. He also had an incredibly fast metabolism; he could eat almost as much as he wanted and not really gain any weight. There were other things too, of course; werewolves were faster, and stronger, and had really good vision. Not that any of that really applied to Feliciano; as far as strength went, he was fairly strong in human terms, but positively weak as far as being a lycanthrope meant. He was still fast, though; in fact, he liked to run, though he very rarely did. His favorite part, though, was the dreams; surreal they weren't, nor subtle, and always a fantastic indicator of what he wanted or feared. They were also very vivid and, for the most part, pleasant. The flip side to this was that his nightmares made him sob nonstop, often well into the early morning.

For the most part, despite the obvious drawbacks, Feliciano loved being a lycanthrope. It was like being a contortionist, or being ambidextrous; to him, it meant almost nothing.


	2. Chapter 1

Feliciano Vargas woke up excited. In actuality, this was somewhat common, because usually he had _something _to look forward to. Usually it would be someone's birthday, or a holiday, but sometimes not. Sometimes, Feliciano would wake up extra-early because it was the first day of spring and he couldn't wait to go outside and feel how different everything was, for instance; which, as his brother, Lovino, had told him many times, was probably not very common among 'normal' people. Which was a joke because normal people didn't get turned into demons and still call themselves Catholic. But that was Lovino, a walking contradiction. Anyway, Feliciano was nearly always excited for something.

Today, it was a party. One of Francis's, and Lovino was free to say what he wanted about the hybrid vampire-human, but he threw excellent parties. Feliciano always had a good time, anyway, talking to local girls or otherwise keeping himself occupied. Plus, the food was always amazing and he always had the best champagne, which was Feliciano's second or maybe third favorite type of wine. Even if he hadn't wanted to go though, he still would have. Antonio (a close friend of the Vargases for as long as Feliciano could remember, who had miraculously lived as long as they had due to his dubious genealogy) was begging them to go, and while Feliciano had agreed immediately, Lovino was requiring more convincing.

Before he did anything, Feliciano checked his calendar. He smiled to himself. His Moon wasn't for a few more days. It wasn't that Feliciano dreaded his Moons; it was just that a night where he was chained up in his basement turning into a horrible beast was a night that he couldn't be outside, walking through the arcade, past the piers, to the gazebo, which was what he did on the nights that he wasn't too tired. The air always smelled so much sweeter at night.

"Good morning!" he said to whoever was in the kitchen. As it turned out, Antonio was not there as he often was (he was there so often it was almost like he lived there). Instead, it was just Lovino, who was eating the leftover pizza that Feliciano had made last night for breakfast.

"Morning, stupid," said Lovino, and Feliciano knew it was far too early for him to be using the insult with any energy whatsoever. Feliciano poured himself a glass of orange juice before sitting down across from Lovino, watching him as he chewed, swallowed, and started complaining. "Tell me you are not going to that stupid vampire party that half-breed Francis is hosting," he said, spitting out Francis's name with disgust.

Feliciano frowned. "Of course I am...you know I always go to parties when people invite me," he said with a tone of confusion. Why would Lovino think he _wasn't _going to the party? "And you know, I really can't wait. There's going to be a lot of girls there to talk to; I remember one from the last party, Darla. I think she really liked me a lot and I hope I see her again. I wonder what happened to her. Do you know wh-" Lovino cut him off.

"Shut up!" Feliciano frowned slightly at the command, picking up his orange juice and taking a sip, as if he had to have something to occupy himself with so he wouldn't feel awkward. "It's good for you," continued Lovino, who was now done with the pizza and free to use his hands to help him make his points which, Feliciano found, he was somewhat dependent on...but then again, he had noticed the behavior in himself as well. Perhaps it was genetics.

"Listen, you know what your problem is? I'll tell you. Your problem is you talk too much. Just flapping your jaws in the wind without a care in the world. That's gonna get you in trouble some day. It's gotta be divine intervention that it hasn't gotten you killed already. Anyway, it doesn't matter that there's going to be girls there, because for the many, many years I have known you, you have never one taken one home. Hell, you've never even _kissed _a girl, have you?"

Feliciano suddenly looked up at the accusation. He frowned, looking away from his brother as he calculated a response, but it turned out that he didn't need one, because Lovino was still talking.

"Exactly my point! You," he said, jabbing his finger in Feliciano's direction to punctuate his point, "need to stop talking about shit like shoes with them, and _start _using that Italian blood to actually get some for once in your pathetic life." Feliciano frowned again. Lovino always seemed kind of bothered by the fact that he was a virgin, but it always became a subject of discussion whenever Francis had a party.

"I'll try to do that," said Feliciano, taking his glass to the sink and washing it before sitting on the counter and facing his brother once more. "Really, I will..I don't know why they aren't interested in me," he added, though he had never been the victim of rejection or unrequited love when it came to the girls at Francis's parties, so why Lovino was so concerned, he didn't know.

"He doesn't know why they aren't interested in them, he says," said Lovino, as if addressing an invisible person to his left. "Here's an idea: maybe if you were interested in them, they might be interested in you! 'Cos, you know, things tend to work out like that, Feliciano." This particular accusation was also common when Lovino got on his 'why don't you have a girlfriend' rant. Feliciano sighed, and spoke in a soft tone of voice.

"Lovino, I'm going to find a girl who's right for me, I promise," he said, now stepping off the counter and taking Lovino's empty dish to the sink. "It'll happen!" he insisted, washing and drying the dish incredibly thoroughly if only to give himself something to look at besides Lovino.

"Yeah, you've been saying that for a fuckin' century, but it has yet to actually happen," pressed Lovino. Feliciano heard him sigh to himself. It seemed as if he was moving on to a new topic. "Just do me a favor, will you? If you can help it, when you find that special someone, check for fangs."

Feliciano winced. The vampire rant was an often-repeated series of complaints that, frankly, hurt to listen to. Because Lovino _hated _vampires, almost as much as he hated the majority of the male species, or foreigners. They were relatively common, and it was obvious to Feliciano when one was nearby, which was why it confused him greatly when people warned him to 'check for fangs' or 'look out for vampires'. Because really, they were _incredibly _obvious. Most of them smelled like cemeteries, as if they had risen from the grave like the folklore said (when really most of them were sired in nightclubs and alleyways, or so he was often told) but even the ones that didn't gave off a vibe. Vampires, generally, tended to carry a vibe of arrogance, an arrogance that was far more of a 'tell' than fangs could ever be. It was overwhelming, and maybe it was because he was a lyc, but Feliciano wasn't terrified of vampires. He avoided them because they just plain weren't his cup of tea, not because they were scary, innocent-young-teenager-snatching fiends of the night like most people seemed to think. Though, Feliciano thought, it was really fun to watch vampires travel in packs and try to guess who was in charge. Usually it was the one with the best hair.

"Don't worry, Lovi, I've told you before: I don't like vampires." Feliciano recalled a time at one of Francis's parties where an incredibly pretty vampire by the name of Margaret had approached him, inviting him to some club or other, but of course he hadn't gone with her. Feliciano had practically been raised to never, ever trust a vampire. Though Margaret had been interesting beyond belief, especially how shocked she had been when Feliciano had admitted he'd known all along what she was. It was funny, that vampires could sense lycs, and yet they thought lycs could not sense them. (Feliciano knew that vampires could sense lycs thanks to Antonio, and it was always something that made him very, very curious. Did he have an 'air' to him? Did he have a 'smell'? It was something to ask if he ever met a vampire again.)

"No one _likes_ vampires, dumbass," said Lovino, now standing up and facing him with his hands on his hips. "They use their vampire mind-tricks and that's how they get you. So don't think that you, of all people, can outsmart a vampire. Vampires aren't human. They're demons." Feliciano noted how Lovino always said the statement without irony.

"You're a demon," he said casually. "And I think I am. At any rate, I'm not a human." Of course, Lovino was not really a 'demon' in the truest sense of the word. Lovino was...welll...Feliciano wasn't completely sure _what _he was. One day, when they were both fifteen (three years after Feliciano himself had contracted lycanthropy) Lovino had come home..different. More specifically, he now bore black, intimidating wings (if he so chose; he could make them disappear when he wanted) and was now significantly stronger. No matter now many times Feliciano asked, Lovino refused to tell him how it had happened. Maybe someday he would get to hear the story. At any rate, 'demon' was what Lovino called himself, and what Feliciano had eventually picked up after initial discomfort.

"So? What's that got to do with anything? I'm talking about vampires, stupid," he said, shaking his head. "Listen, with that brain of yours, just don't talk to any even _remotely _attractive strangers, you got it?"

Feliciano stifled a smile. Did people really think vampires were attractive? In his experience, they were way too bony and their gums were too red and their eyes _probed _you, like they were trying to read your sole. "I promise not to talk to anyone attractive. Okay?" Feliciano headed upstairs, until he could no longer hear his brother's cries of 'dammit, that's not the point and you know it!'

He opened his closet door and stared at it now. If he was going to be at a party, he had to look nice. But, he realized with dismay, he didn't know at all what kind of party it was. Sighing, he took out his cell phone and dialed in Antonio's number, smiling as he did so. Cell-phones were so cool. Feliciano still wasn't totally used to having one.

"¿Sí?" came the reply. Antonio always answered the phone in Spanish, even if he knew the person calling.

"'Toni! This is Feliciano?" he said, saying the last part like it was a question despite himself. "I'm so excited for the party tonight, but I don't know what to wear! What kind of party is Francis having?"

"You're going? That's great!" said Antonio cheerfully. Antonio was such a happy guy, Feliciano thought. "Hmm, I believe it's semi-formal, so you should look nice. But don't go raiding your brother's closet again, he got really mad at me the last time you did that."

Feliciano nodded, before realizing Antonio couldn't hear him. "Don't worry, I won't go through Lovi's stuff. I think I'm banned from his room now, anyways," he said matter-of-factly. "Anyway, I'll figure something out. Grazie!"

"It's no problem at all. I'll tell Francis you're going, I'm sure he'll be thrilled ...out of curiosity, do you know if Lovi will be going?"

Feliciano thought carefully. He wanted to come up with an answer that was kind of the truth, at least..because, by asking, it was very clear that Antonio wanted Lovino there. Not that Feliciano hadn't known that _anyway_ (Antonio always wanted Lovino 'there', or 'here', or whatever the case happened to be) but even so, the situation required thought. Usually, the more Lovino complained about a party, the more likely it was he would go. Feliciano wasn't sure why this was; perhaps he thought that if he wasn't going to be there, he didn't have to worry about it. He hated to get Antonio's hopes up for nothing, but on the other hand...

"He compl-he was talking a lot about it this morning, so I'm sure he'll be there, too," said Feliciano. He could practically hear Antonio smiling on the other end.

"¡Genial!" he exclaimed. "I'm very excited! Thank you, Feli!" Feliciano smiled too.

"You're welcome," he said cheerfully. "Thanks for helping me. See you at the party!"

"Adios," said Antonio, before Feliciano heard him hang up.

Semi-formal. What on Earth did that mean? Maybe a nice suit would work. The worst people could think was that he was too formal, right? Besides, thought Feliciano, he wasn't really trying to impress anyone. No, Feliciano was not dressing to impress Antonio, Francis, Lovino, or for that matter the vampires, and so he settled on a nice suit and didn't think about it again until it was time for the party.


	3. Chapter 2

Feliciano wasn't sure what to think. On the one hand, there were tons of fascinating people everywhere, and it was addicting to watch them all. Lovino had underestimated how many vampires would be there; there were swarms of them. But even the non-vamps were incredibly glamorous looking, and more than anything Feliciano wanted to walk up and start a conversation.

Which he had tried. Most of them had ignored him. It was fine, since he didn't really know them, but he had to admit to feeling a _little _left out. Especially since Lovino was talking to (of all people) Antonio. Which made him happy; Antonio loved Lovino to the point of obsession, it seemed. But at the same time, it made him a little sad on a superficial level, because it meant he had no one to talk to.

Feliciano briefly saw Francis chatting to someone he could swear looked identical to Margaret the vampire. The only reason he remembered her at all was because of her eyes; they had been this intense gray was really more like a silver. Did all vampires have such intoxicating eyes, Feliciano wondered, or is it just that lycs are more succeptible or more likely to notice? Maybe it wasn't lycs at all. Maybe it was just him.

Suddenly, Feliciano jumped. He could have sworn he had heard a voice. Which would have been normal at the crowded party, especially since he was leaning against the wall listening to just about everyone, but this voice stood out. It was like a whisper, but at the same time, it wasn't soft at all. Feliciano shuddered; the voice sent a shiver down his spine. Maybe it was because it was so disembodied, or maybe it was because Feliciano couldn't understand what it had said. Either way,he hoped he had imagined it. Surely this was more likely, wasn't it? Feliciano tried very hard to convince himself that this was this case.

Feliciano had _almost _forgotten about the creepy voice when he heard it again. Only this time, it was right in his ear. Feliciano looked immediately to his left, expecting a vampire, or a person, or _someone_, but there was no one there. He felt his heart pound in his chest. This was truly horror movie stuff. Worst of all was what the voice had uttered. It was definitely vampire-ish, he couldn't help but think. 'Come to the alley.' What non-vamp would ever say something like that? Well, Feliciano could think of a few people, but he preferred not to. He was scared enough.

"Is anyone there?" he asked feebly. He knew it was probably pretty hopeless asking a disembodied voice if it was 'there', or for that matter if it was a 'someone', but it was due to a force of habit that he asked the question again, slightly louder. Still no answer. Just the original statement, and Feliciano could swear he felt a breath in his hair, which certainly went against the 'it's all in your head' theory.

Feliciano closed his eyes, but the voice got louder. Which was when he decided, perhaps stupidly, that _fine_, he would go out the back door of Francis's house, which was within walking distance of an alleyway. Maybe not 'the' alleyway, but it would have to do. He left without being noticed, not really sorry for leaving in the first place. He could still feel his heart pound in his chest, but it was almost like he was being taken there against his will. Except, of course, for the fact that he was clearly walking there on his own two feet. The voice, it seemed, was gone, though Feliciano could swear he felt a presence. _Oh, Dio. _What if he was really losing his mind? Surely this was the kind of thing only crazy people did.

When he got to the alleyway, it was clearly not empty. It was very dark, and maybe if you were a _human _or something you could have mistaken it for empty, but there was obviously someone here. Feliciano turned around, taking a deep breath of the air. The smell was peculiar to him: clearly it wasn't just 'alleyway smell', as there was someone there (who was, inexplicably, hiding) but the smell wasn't exactly human, either.

Without warning, he heard the voice again. Rather than being disembodied and mysterious, though, this time it was clear, as if it had belonged to a person. Feliciano stood and listened, his mouth slightly open from shock.

"West! You know you've gotta be proud of me! Check this kid out!"

Feliciano was almost offended. _Kid. _He wasn't foolish enough to say indignantly, "I am not a kid, I am over a century old, thank you," of course, and he knew he _looked _very young, but still, wasn't 'kid' an exaggeration? And anyway, who or what was 'West'? Before he could analyze the question, he felt the figure who had been hiding step out of the shadows.

How on Earth had Feliciano not known it was a vampire? How? It was completely baffling to him, because seeing him now, well..what else could he be? He was so clearly a vampire that Feliciano was sure that a human could have spotted it. His skin was not human at all; it was much too pale, he thought, but at the same time it didn't look terribly out of place. Then there were his eyes. _Clearly _vampire...eyes...they made it a little bit difficult to think. Probably this was what Lovino had meant, saying that vampires could do all kinds of things to you with their eyes alone. Probably this was what he had noticed earlier, when he had remembered Margaret's eyes. For whatever reason, this strange vampire's eyes were piercing, almost moreso than a typical vampire's would be. They were the exact color that Feliciano imagined the ice caps to be. He forced himself to look away. It was always a bad idea to look directly into a vampire's eyes.

He shook his head. Right, the vampire was _speaking_. To..to the disembodied voice? That didn't make any sense.

"Damn it, Gilbert, don't you understand? He's a lyc," said the vampire, and Feliciano couldn't help but find himself a little hurt by the way he said 'lyc'. Like it meant he had a disease. Sure, the fact that he was a lyc was probably what would save him from this terrible vampire and his...voice...thing...that followed people around. That was apparently named Gilbert.

"What's wrong with lycs? Lycs are adorable," said the voice, and Feliciano (despite logic) was about to say 'thank you', when he noticed that there was actually a person saying those words. Sort of. Feliciano couldn't believe his eyes. In a world with lycs and vampires, it shouldn't have seemed so odd, but it just _was. _Nonetheless, Feliciano was scared out of his mind. Despite his seemingly unthreatening nature, Feliciano had been talking to a _ghost. _Who was now taking up for lycs.

"Look at 'im," continued Gilbert the ghost, now walking (if ghosts could really walk) in his direction. "He's all twitchy. Like a puppy. You like puppies, dont'cha West?" There was the name West again. Was that the vampire's name? That was certainly odd. In Feliciano's opinon, he did not look like a West...though, to be fair, Feliciano was afraid to look at him for too long because he could _swear _that if he did, he would succumb to this vampire's mind control. The vampire, however, seemed to be positively apathetic to the idea.

"He's a _lyc_, Gilbert. You do not feed from lycs," he said, his voice just as cold as his eyes. Feliciano couldn't help but feel a little..well..he wasn't completely sure. Despite himself, he couldn't help but feel a little_ indignant _at the idea that lycs were somehow unworthy to be fed upon...and to his shock, the feeling still stayed even after he processed the word 'feed'.

"But he's cute!" pressed Gilbert. "I know you like brunettes!" Feliciano felt himself blush slightly at the comment. He found it unlikely that Gilbert could have been referring to blood-drinking at this point (unless, of course, hair color affected taste..something else to ask his imaginary vampire pen-pal that he did not have), and the idea made him squirm slightly. It was, in short, what Lovino accused him of every other weekend. It was what he laid in bed wondering about on some nights. And it was, Feliciano suspected, what had made his fear of being mind-controlled by this _particular _vampire so strong.

And to think, this vampire 'West' might have the same affliction? Well, that wasn't the right word...preference? Choice? Feliciano immediately reached into his pocket, pulling out a rosary and fiddling with it as he nearly always did when he felt like this. Neither the ghost nor the vampire seemed to notice.

"I don't 'like brunettes', Gilbert. I don't 'like' anyone. And I will not feed from this poor lyc that you found God knows where." Feliciano felt himself..was he _pouting_ about not having his blood sucked? Certainly, that was odd. And even more odd was what he felt himself, almost out of his control, do next.

"Scusi," he said, meekly at first, before repeating it in English with a stronger tone. Despite himself, he looked directly into this strange vampire's eyes.

He frowned. The look on his face was, at best, 'are you talking to me?' At worst, it was 'do I know you?' After a minute or so, he spoke. "Yes? What is it that you want?"

Feliciano felt the color drain from his face. He couldn't believe he had done this. Oh, how royally stupid he had been, to sit and chat with a vampire rather than escape with his life. And now he had to talk his way out of being drained. Except, to his dismay, that was the opposite of what came out.

"Excuse me, Mr. Vampire, or West, or whatever your name is, but I do not understand why you wouldn't like lycs. Is there something wrong with us? Does our blood taste bad?" Why was he doing this? Did he have a death wish? Feliciano went on. "Do you think _my _blood tastes bad? Is that it? Am I too young? I'm not really this young, I was just turned at a young age. That makes you look more youthful, you know. You still age, unlike with vampires, but it kinda stunts your growth at a younger spot. I probably look about 17 years old, but I stopped aging physically at around age 20. Isn't it funny how that works?"

Maybe Lovino had been right. Maybe Feliciano's problem _was _that he talked too much.

Meanwhile, the vampire looked completely, utterly confused. Which made sense. Not very many victims sat and told you why they were great blood-sucking choices.

"Ludwig," he said. And Feliciano was the one who was confused now.

"What?" he asked, sure that he was missing something. Maybe the vampire was the crazy one, and he was the one with his sanity. (This, he realized, was rather unlikely. But it was a lovely thought; another one being that they were both crazy, or both sane. He tried not to dwell on it, however.)

"That's my name," he said, and Feliciano understood. "My name is Ludwig Beilschmidt, and I am a vampire. In case that was not apparent to you." He spoke with a very harsh tone, like his voice was made of glass, but he lacked the arrogance that most vampires had.

"I know that," said Feliciano, almost irritably. And Feliciano was never really irritable. "Why on Earth do vampires think that, though they can sense lycs, lycs cannot sense them? It doesn't make sense," he said. Feliciano found that, though he was no longer pouting, he still carried the attitude that went along with it. "In any case, I know you're a vampire. I heard you talking about it."

Gilbert snickered loudly. "This is way too good!" he exclaimed. "A masochistic lyc, that's really something." Masochistic. How silly was that? Was Feliciano saying that (Heaven forbid) he would be _turned on _if Ludwig the vampire bit him? Well. Now his face was completely red. He reached for his rosary, only to find that it wasn't in his pocket. He glanced down at the floor of the alleyway. Great. He'd have to remember to pick it up on his way home, if he ever got to go home. _'If I could stop convincing Ludwig the vampire to suck my blood,' _he thought. Maybe that was a vampire trick, too...but if it was, it seemed a little complicated. Why would you waste time convincing your victim to convince you? Wouldn't you be telling your victim what a great idea it was, not the other way around? Feliciano still wasn't sure why he hadn't run away by now. That was his reaction to all scary things: run. So..why was he still standing there, in an abandoned alleyway, with a ghost and a vampire?

Ludwig tilted his head ever so slightly. "If you know I am a vampire, then why do you argue so vehemently? Do you want me to feed on you?" He didn't speak with an ounce of sarcasm, like he was genuinely asking the question.

"I don't know!" exclaimed Feliciano. The outburst echoed, almost obnoxiously. He turned away, frowning slightly as he thought of what to say next. "I do want to know why you don't like lyc blood though. I actually have wondered, you know? Is it any different?" Maybe now he would get his vampire pen-pal. The thought almost made him forget to be a mixture of scared and...happy? Was it happy? Not really..Feliciano would come up with a good word in Italian for it later. Italian was the best for expressing himself, he found.

Ludwig nodded. "I've never fed from a lycanthrope, but I've heard that it is. But that's not why I was adverse; it's just that, as a general rule, vampires avoid lycanthropes, and vice versa." He sighed. "Victims of lycanthropy are often kept very protected, if not by friends and family then by other lycanthropes, and although I believe you're the only one in the city, I still don't find it a good idea to tempt fate." Feliciano nodded, half-understanding.

"I hate to interrupt," said Gilbert, now looking oddly impatient for someone supposed to be dead, "but if you're going to feed from Lyc-Boy here, then do it." But then he smirked again, and Feliciano saw that he, too, had fangs. Huh. A vampire ghost. That was..odd, to say the least. Also odd was the fact that Feliciano knew he was a ghost; he looked corporeal, now, and with the exception of how he floated rather than walked, he could have easily passed for a human...a very pale, white haired, red eyed human, but a human nonetheless.

Ludwig gave Gilbert a look that, for whatever reason, reminded him of the looks Lovino gave him. Maybe they were brothers, too...no, that probably didn't make sense. They didn't even look alike. Now Ludwig was facing him. "Well, normally as an act of courtesy I have the person in a trance by this point," he said, "but since you seemed so _eager_ before, I am assuming I don't have to." Feliciano could have sworn he saw Ludwig smile. It wasn't a nasty smile, but it sent a shiver down his spine nonetheless.

Feliciano knew he could have run by now. Another reason, he was sure, that Ludwig would not want to go through the hassle of feeding from a lyc. Lycs were fast. He could have been home by now, and surely 'This vampire almost got me!' would be a perfectly good reason for leaving Francis's party early. Feliciano didn't run; he was shaking terribly, and when he saw the apparition of Gilbert disappear, he shook even more. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he was sure that the look on his face was nothing short of terrified.

But suddenly he felt a whisper in his ear (this time, of course, not coming out of thin air). "Stay still," whispered Ludwig, and although the hot breath in his ear made him shake even more, eventually he willed himself to stay still. Now Feliciano was closing his eyes.

Before he could say anything ("no", "stop", "be quick", "be gentle", etc.) he felt the acute pain of fangs piercing his neck. He heard himself scream upon the initial pain, but then he was..what, exactly, was he doing? Surely the noise he had made was one associated closely with the word 'wince', but he wasn't completely sure. In point of fact, he wasn't even competely sure that he was awake. He had let his arms hang limply at his side, but found that Ludwig had him in something of an embrace, with his arms wrapped around his body. Then Feliciano heard himself utter a sound that was unmistakable, and for a half of a second he was embarrassed, but mostly it was just the pain, because despite logic, it did not stop hurting. It kept on, and then it turned into something else altogether, the kind of something that made one squirm, the kind of something that made noises like that almost seem normal. But hopefully it wasn't obvious, and anyway, maybe everybody moaned while getting their blood sucked. Or maybe not. Either way, he wouldn't tell anybody; it would be his secret.

And then it was over. Feliciano felt almost drunk, in that he was very, very dizzy and couldn't stand up straight. He could see, even through his own hazy vision, that Ludwig's face was practically scarlet. That didn't really make sense, Feliciano thought, 'cos that was blood, and was it his blood that had risen to his cheeks, or was the blushing merely a side-effect of feeding? Then Feliciano frowned, stunned that his own thoughts failed to make any sort of sense.

"Do you need me to escort you home? It probably isn't safe for you to walk home alone at this hour," said Ludwig, and Feliciano couldn't help but laugh. His laughter was more like giggling, and it bounced off of the walls to the point where he was certain the people inside the building next to them could hear him. "Why are you laughing?" asked Ludwig, his face stoic. Feliciano tried to stop. Maybe Ludwig thought he was being mean, or maybe being delusional was normal after a feeding.

"Ludwig, I ask you," said Feliciano, surprised that his voice contained any lucidity to it at all. "What's the worst that could happen?" He had to say the statement once more through slightly immature laughter. "'Cos, umm, I think I just had my blood sucked. Isn't that the worst thing that could happen?"

Feliciano found the irony (or whatever it was) hilarious, and his face hurt from smiling so much, but Ludwig had something of a scowl on his. "You seemed to enjoy it," he said evenly, and instantly Feliciano was quiet.

"W-well," he began, but then the words ceased to come to him quite as easily as they had before. He felt his face heat up, and he frowned. It was like he had forgotten all about it, really, but now the memories came back: of how he felt, namely, but to a lesser degree what he surely must have sounded like. Finally, he found his voice again.

"I was just saying that, isn't that what people warn you about? Don't walk alone at night, or else you'll meet a vampire?" That was what Lovino and Antonio had always told him. Even Francis had something against full-blood vampires, claiming that any more than half-vampire and they may as well have been monsters. "Besides, I didn't say I 'enjoyed' it. T-that's crazy. You're crazy." He was gesturing wildly now, as he often did when he was nervous, and suddenly he felt very defensive.

"Fine," siad Ludwig, and the look on his face was unreadable. "I'll be taking my leave now. I hope you find your way home safely." His voice was stoic, but there was a something else there...although, Feliciano was not very good at reading people, so he disregarded this initial vibe.

"Ciao, ciao!" he called out into the night as Ludwig walked away. "Hope to see you again!" If he had ever really been angry, he wasn't anymore. Now he found himself feeling sort of happy, and the embarrassment from having 'enjoyed' getting his blood sucked out of him was gone. When Ludwig did turn around, briefly, the look on his face was sheer shock. Feliciano was smiling at him now. Maybe he was delusional from the loss of blood, and maybe that was what had prompted him to say what he had, but he decided he didn't care.

"Right," he could swear he heard Ludwig reply. "Hope to see you again, too." And then he turned around for good this time, walking off into the distance.

Feliciano checked his suit for blood (there was none, he found, not even on the fabric of the shirt that had been near his neck; astonishing) and sat on the concrete, wondering what on Earth had just happened to would have to go home sometime, of course, but for the moment he was too tired to get up. He looked at the ground only to see his rosary that he had dropped before. Feliciano picked it up and smiled, playing with it and wrapping it around his fingers. Besides, if he had ever needed a rosary, it was now, because for as long as he had lived, Feliciano could not remember ever feeling as confused as he was right now.


	4. Chapter 3

Feliciano knew he was dreaming.

Werewolf dreams were always mind-bogglingly intense. In fact, they were usually more vivid and colorful than real life. Everything Feliciano wanted in real life, he had in his dreams. Nightmares; well, they were another story entirely, but dreams were enticing and colorful and beautiful.

In this dream, he was walking down a path that was far too familiar: past the docks, through the arcade, around the antique shop, and at the gazebo. He inahled deeply, as if he could absorb the air that surrounded him. It smelled so clean and beautiful. It made him feel alive.

Of course, Feliciano knew exactly what was going to happen. He had this dream relatively often. He would stand at the gazebo, taking in everything: each blade of grass, each cloud in the sky, each gust of wind. Somehow, he was able to see it all at once. And then, he would always walk over to the bright, sunshiny field and make daisy chains. As far as dreams went, it was fairly simplistic, but it made him happy.

Feliciano had been just about to walk to the field that surrounded the gazebo, in fact, when he felt a sudden sense of fear. It was inexplicable, really, for the dream had never once shown any signs of being a nightmare in disguise. But suddenly, Feliciano's stomach lurched. He watched as the sky turned dark and the clouds turned stormy. Soon it was raining. And it was so odd, because if you knew you were dreaming, weren't you able to control what happened? But Feliciano felt powerless. No matter how hard he tried, the sunny atmosphere turned darker by the minute.

Before he could dwell on it, however, he heard footsteps, and he whirled around to face them. Somehow, through the thunder and the heavy rain he could hear the figure approach. The soft sound of boots stepping on wet grass.

When he saw who it was, Feliciano wasn't exactly surprised. Well, he was surprised at first, but then he thought about it and realized what perfect sense it made. And he turned to face Ludwig in the storm.

"I'm dreaming," he whispered, and he knew that somehow, Ludwig would be able to hear him through the rolling thunder. Indeed, he appeared to give the statement some thought before he finally responded.

"So you are," he said, nodding slightly. Feliciano wondered how everything could make so much sense and yet, at the same time, not.

Feliciano was about to say something (though what, exactly, he had been about to say he did not know) when once again, he felt the sharp stab of fangs at his neck. But then everything slowed down. Because lycanthrope dreams were always so brilliant and clear, that this moment was nearly identical to the one Feliciano could recall from the not-dreamworld, only so much _worse_-not because it hurt more, but because what could have been maybe identified as pleasure now felt so overwhelmingly good that it was like nothing else existed. He could hardly stand it, but beacause it was a dream it lasted for so much longer. And every detail became obvious all at once: the way his legs were shaking, the way his lips were trembling, the way he felt so warm it was surely a disease. But here, in this rainy, gloomy field that had once been so full of sunshine, he didn't have to be embarrassed. He-

When Feliciano woke up, he was incredibly confused. Then, all at once, the entirety of his dream hit him. He frowned to himself. Dreams were either good or bad, weren't they? Now he wasn't sure at all. It was more confusing than anything else. His heart was racing, so he decided to go to the bathroom and look in the mirror, just in case he was actually ill. Indeed, he didn't quite look himself. Feliciano's face was very, very flushed. His eyes were wide, the pupils huge. His mouth hung open slightly, out of shock, because he looked so _wild_. Even his teeth seemed a little bit sharper, though this was probably just his imagination playing a (rather cruel) trick on him. No, Feliciano didn't look ill, but he certainly didn't look normal, either. He splashed some cold water on his face, threw on a t-shirt, and went downstairs. He wondered if the wildness still showed.

"Good morning," he said as he entered the kitchen. Unlike yesterday, he was not excited, but he was awake, almost unusually so. Certainly, it was unusual given that it was early in the morning. When he made eye contact with Lovino, he felt incredibly exposed, as if his demon brother suddenly had a new power, and it was the gift of reading minds. But, as he noticed the lack of hands at his throat, Feliciano could not believe for a second longer that Lovino had any sort of telapathy. He would likely be dead already if this were true.

"Hey, stupid, you bailed Francis's party," said Lovino at once. Feliciano froze. He had, indeed, bailed Francis's party. What was he supposed to say? 'Yep, I left to go get my blood sucked in an alleyway!' No, that wouldn't work at all. In fact-

Suddenly, with a feeling of growing horror, Feliciano remembered something that should have been obvious. "Scusami," he mumbled, running out of the kitchen to go into the downstairs bathroom. He blindly reached for the lightswitch, slamming his hand against the wall frantically. When light flooded the room, Feliciano ran to the mirror, and there it was. It was so obvious that he was surprised Lovino hadn't noticed it; the very edge of his t-shirt revealed slight discoloration on the skin of his neck. Feliciano lowered his shirt's collar slowly, afraid of what he would see. And there, right on his neck, was a bruise, with two circular wounds right in the middle of it.

Feliciano didn't like to curse (it was a sin) but _merda, merda, merda _was all he could think. He felt his mind cloud over in panic. What was he going to do? He pulled his shirt's collar up as far as it would go, only for it to slide back to its original position. W-well...maybe it wasn't obvious at all. Maybe it was early enough in the morning for Lovino to completely miss it. Feliciano relaxed, and came out of the bathroom.

Lovino scowled suspiciously at him. "What the hell took you so long? And for that matter, what made you think it was okay to just leave in the middle of a damn conversation? Don't you have any manners?" Relief washed over Feliciano. He was still going on about Francis's party.

"I'm sorry," began Feliciano, ignoring Lovino's muttered, 'you should be'. "But I really wasn't feeling very good yesterday. In fact, I've been feeling rather naseous this morning as well." Feliciano hated to lie, but in this case it was completely, utterly neccessary.

Lovino shrugged. "Well, that's just fine with me. I'm sure everyone there was sick of you, anyway. I know I was." He shook his head. "You came straight home, right? Didn't linger in any nightclubs? Or alleyways?" The statement sent a shiver down Feliciano's spine at first, prompting him to wonder if Lovino somehow _knew_, but then he remembered that Lovino always gave this speech after Feliciano went out at night. He sighed.

"No, Lovi, I didn't go to any nightclubs or alleyways." Telling the outright lie made his stomach churn. "I went straight home and fell asleep." Lovino seemed satisified with this answer.

"Good," he said, jabbing his fork in Feliciano's general direction. It made Feliciano wince, as if he was going to actually do anything with it. "Francis's little party was _swarming _with vamps. Vamps everywhere, I swear it was like a friggin' convention." He sighed audibly. "I wish I'd been born a Slayer," he said, shaking his head.

Feliciano knew all about the fabled Slayer. He had never met one...or maybe he had. That was the thing about Slayers. You couldn't really sense them like you could vampires, and their work was largely undercover. From what he understood, Slayers had originally been almost genetic, like an invisible royal court had delivered them onto this Earth to protect people from vampires, primarily, but also any non-human that deigned to do harm. Then there had been the Slayer Uprising, a not-really-war that Feliciano could scarcely remember, since he hadn't been anywhere near Budapest, Hungary when it had happened, and that had been _where _it had happened. The Slayer Uprising had been responsible for lots of important changes in the supernatural world, or so he'd been told, but the most notable was that now, practically ever country had a Slayer responsible for it.

Slayers could be male or female, they were picked at a young age and trained all through their childhood, and they were deadly. Since they were most known for their precision when it came to dealing with unruly vampires, it made since that Lovino wanted to be one.

"No one's born a Slayer anymore, Lovi," said Feliciano, grateful to be talking about something else. "They're picked. Like the Pope." He stood up and walked to the refridgerator, hoping to find something to eat even though he wasn't really hungry.

"The Pope is elected, dumbass. Slayers aren't," said Lovino, and Feliciano ignored him, grabbing a container of yogurt and a spoon before sitting down a the table again. "In any case, Slayers are amazing. You should find this country's Slayer and start putting the moves on _her. _If I don't do it first," he added.

Feliciano glanced up at him. "I heard that our slayer is a male," he said, though of course he had no idea if this was true. Lovino scowled at him.

"Well, then, don't go after any men who carry around vampire stakes, stronzo," he said, and Feliciano frowned. The insults always seemed worse in Italian.

"You carry around a stake," Feliciano pointed out. This prompted an eye-roll from Lovino.

"Right, because I'm somebody you should be considering when it comes to dating. That's incest, jackass," he said, standing up and throwing his food away. A novelty within itself, since Lovino never cleaned up after himself.

"As if I'd be interested in you if you weren't related to me," Feliciano mumbled softly. It was meant to just be an 'inside voice' comment, but he had accidentally said it out loud. Lovino was facing him now, with a pissed-off expression on his face.

"What was that?" Now Lovino grabbed had him by the collar. It was so normal that Feliciano only flinched a little; Lovino rarely actually _hurt _him. The look on his face was an almost arbitrary anger, like he wasn't really angry at the comment, but at the fact that Feliciano had actually said it out loud. But suddenly, Lovino's face fell, and for a split second Feliciano thought he had actually hurt his feelings somehow. However, Lovino's expression quickly turned to one of rage, and he was screaming.

"You fucking dumbass!" Feliciano racked his brain for what, exactly, he had done. And then it occurred to him, relatively quickly considering how he usually wasn't terribly great at reading people's moods. He felt the color drain from his face. It had been a very, very bad idea to let Lovino get so close to him and his shirt collar.

"What have I told you to do since you've been little? Number one, stay away from vampires. Number two, THERE IS NO NUMBER TWO. It's just that one fucking rule, and you have to go be a dumbass and break it!" Feliciano winced as Lovino's volume increased.

"It's not fucking hard! You just look at someone, ask yourself if they have fangs, and then run! You're a lyc, for God's sake! You can run! You're faster than some fucking vampire! I don't know what your dumb ass did to get bitten, but I swear, I could kill you. _If _you don't die of some fucking disease-related shit that you contracted from the leech that got to you! You don't know where it's been!"

Before he could stop himself, Feliciano spoke. The minute he did, he wished that he hadn't, that he had just been quiet. And it was kind of funny; the vampire Lovino had been picturing was probably a shapely woman with come-hither eyes, a woman with a figure so fantastic you forgot to check her teeth. That probably would have been better, really, to let him keep imagining that. It probably would have become one of those stories Lovino told to illustrate Feliciano's absent-mindedness. "I swear, he almost got killed because he followed this vamp just because she was hot." And maybe, just maybe, Lovino would even forgive him.

But Feliciano hadn't thought of any of that, he'd only thought of how nice Ludwig the vampire had been to him, how clean he'd looked, how he hadn't smelled like a graveyard at all (in fact, up close he had smelled like a concentrated version of nighttime air, though that could have been Feliciano's imagination) and that was why he had stupidly said, "Lovino, he did not have a disease."

"He?" asked Lovino, speaking at first with an almost eerie quietness, only for his voice to raise once more. "He?" Now he had stopped pacing to push Feliciano against the wall, if only so he could have a captive audience to scream at. "You're telling me that some fucking vampire seduced you into giving up your precious plasma, and that it's a _male_?" He sighed, letting Feliciano go (which was good because Feliciano was terrified). "It'd be one thing if some chick batted her eyelashes at you and you followed her like a fuckin' puppy, but honestly Feliciano, you're telling me you got lured into having your blood sucked by some _guy_?" He snorted with derision. "Shit, I always suspected, but I never expected there to be such proof."

"I am not attracted to him!" said Feliciano. He wasn't sure how true this was, but he decided that it wasn't a lie. Not really. "I heard some voice tell me to go out to the alleyway, and it turned out to be this ghost, and the ghost was like, 'Hey! I have a victim!' and he just gave me to this vampire guy! But I am not attracted to him! Vampires are disgusting!" He paused to catch his breath; after yelling (though not as loudly as Lovino had) he felt so weak, weaker than when he'd felt when Lovino had been yelling at him. Now that he thought about it, he was kind of lying a little. He'd given himself up to Ludwig the vampire, even argued his way into it, and the attraction thing..well..he wasn't sure, since there was such a fine line _anyway_, so it wasn't too far off to say that his heart had been pounding so fast out of fear. It could have been, for all he knew.

Lovino sighed, throwing his hands up into the air. "Next you're gonna tell me he's a foreigner," he said, clearly not caring about the vaguely racist (nationalist? the term had always confused Feliciano, anyway) nature of his statement. In actuality, Feliciano couldn't remember what nationality Ludwig had been, only his name definitely wasn't Italian and neither was the way he'd spoken. Now that he thought about it, he definitely _had _spoken with an accent, but he couldn't put his finger on what kind it was, so he just ignored this.

"I don't know where he's from," said Feliciano. Even this he probably should have kept to himself.

"Well, isn't that great? If you don't know, that probably means he _is _a fuckin' foreigner! God, Feli, I swear sometimes you were created just to piss me off." Now Lovino was sitting down. That was good. It meant that maybe, just maybe, he would be calmer. "It's too bad we're related, because sometimes there's no one I would rather kill."

Feliciano sat down next to him. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't-I mean, I wasn't trying to-" Lovino interrupted him.

"I know. It's not your fault, actually. Vamps are sick fucking creatures, they don't care what you are, long as you have blood." Neither of them said anything for a while, until Lovino looked up. "But they do usually care if you're a lyc...I always thought you'd be safe, because of that. Wonder what made this freak decide to go for it anyway."

Feliciano shrugged. "I don't know," he said. Feliciano couldn't remember a day where he'd lied more.

"Well, go get dressed. Pick a shirt that covers up that, that.." Lovino gestured vaguely at Feliciano's neck. "When Antonio gets here, we're gonna go to the store. If you're not decent by the time he's over here, you're not coming with us." Feliciano smiled broadly. Things were almost-sort-of-normal again.

"Grazie!" he said, hugging Lovino tightly. He didn't care as Lovino squirmed in his grip.

"Get off of me!" he said, pushing Feliciano away. "I swear, if stupid ever becomes contagious, I'm having you quarantined. Now go get dressed."

Feliciano complied, practically bouncing up the stairs to his room as he did so. He felt so happy that he was on semi-good terms with Lovino (a fairly good conclusion to a fight within itself) that he almost forgot to feel guilty about the fact that he'd lied a lot. The worst lie had probably been that he was sorry, because in actuality he wasn't. Thinking about going into that alleyway and what had happened gave Feliciano chills, but one thing he knew was that they weren't from fear.

He went upstairs to find his rosary. He definitely needed it now.


	5. Chapter 4

There was loving your religion, there was loving the idea of your religion, and then there was the strange, utterly confounding relationship that Feliciano had with Florence. Really, it was almost like he was dependent on his darling little _rosario_.

All of the lovely things about having a religion (safety, unity, protection) seemed to be embodied by his rosary, Florence. (Feliciano had named his rosary at a young age. This was not a usual practice-the rosary was a tool to help memorize prayers, not a _buddy_-but Feliciano had gotten incredibly attached to his. Somehow the name had stuck.) At the same time, all the bad things about having a religion (duty, and of course the overwhelming guilt) seemed to magically go away as he looped the little black rosary over and over again around his hand, or entwined his fingers with the beads that it bore. Even when he had kept it in his pocket all day, it would always feel cool to the touch when he took it out. It was almost uncanny, but Feliciano did not question it.

And so, every time Feliciano felt something _bad_, he pulled out Florence and she made everything alright. _I told a lie. _The beads were wrapping around his palm, so fast, almost as if they were doing so of their own accord. _I argued with famiglia. _Oh, how cool and smooth they were. _I'm attracted to a boy. _He gripped his fingers tightly now, as if they were clinging to Florence. _That 'boy' is a vampire. _Even that thought, which sent a chill down his spine to even admit, didn't scare him as much when he threaded the rosary in and out of the spaces between his fingers.

When he found himself sufficiently calmed..well, as calm as going to be...Feliciano slid Florence into his pocket almost casually, as if she hadn't been the pure reason for his catharsis. He wasn't going to the store with Lovino and Antonio, he decided. Not that he didn't like seeing Antonio, and not that he was on particularly bad terms with Lovino now, but there was somebody he needed to see. He grabbed a piece of paper from his desk and eventually found a pen, scrawling a message ("Dear fratello, visiting the restraint shop, will be home before dinner, ti amo tanto, Feli") and taking it with him to leave on the kitchen counter for someone, hopefully Lovino, to find.

When Feliciano left the house, it was almost like the fresh air was a security blanket. Because Feliciano loved the outdoors. The air was just so clean and sweet that Feliciano couldn't help but appreciate it. However, he was determined not to get distracted, and soon he was on his way to Kiku's.

Kiku Honda was a family friend as well; he wasn't as old as Antonio or either Vargas brother, but who was, really? In point of fact, Kiku Honda was young enough, but he acted years older than anyone Feliciano knew. When there was something he couldn't tell Lovino or Antonio, he told Kiku. In addition to having this ally and friend, in Kiku Feliciano had an alibi-not to imply that the honest, polite man would lie for him, but because saying 'I'm visiting the restraint shop' had much more purpose than 'I'm visiting my friend'. Though, it was no secret that Feliciano greatly looked up to Kiku.

Plus, there were the discounts. Occasional, but needed. Restraints were expensive, and the type of store that Kiku ran...well...the restraints that it sold were not specifically for werewolf usage, as few things were, and thus broke. In point of fact, there had been a time when walking into The Wet Banana had made Feliciano terribly uncomfortable, blushing and trying hard not to look at the various inappropriate things, but now all of the sex toys blended into the background whenever he paid Kiku a visit. Really the only shame was that chains made for humans were far too risky to use on lycs more than once. They never broke the first time, but Feliciano was not enough of a risk-taker to find out if they would last a second time. Considering how the chains would often look distressed, weary even, after merely one Moon...well, that too was one of many reasons why Feliciano often visited Kiku's kinky little store.

When he walked into the store, he could see it was empty. This in itself was rather typical; it was only daytime, after all, and few people wanted to be seen going into a sex shop in broad daylight. Even though in Feliciano's opinion, it was a very classy sex shop to be seen going into. "Ciao, Kiku!" he said, glancing around the store to see where, exactly, Kiku was.

"Konnichiwa, Feliciano-chan," said Kiku, smiling at him. Feliciano could recall how terribly long it had taken him to convince Kiku that using the nearly diminutive honorific was okay; after, of course, finding out that such an honorific existed, and finding it too adorable for words. If only Italian or English had such titles, but no, just things like 'doctor' or 'sir'. Painfully boring. At any rate, now Kiku was more or less comfortable with using the 'chan' after his name (though according to Kiku, it was certainly an exception, since out of the two, Feliciano was very much older...but it wasn't like he was offended, so why Kiku had been so indignant in the first place Feliciano did not know). The smile accompanied with the greeting meant that Kiku was in a particularly good mood, as on a regular day, Kiku was a peculiarly stoic-faced man.

"How was your weekend?" asked Feliciano, scanning the rack of dresses that were not made to resist being torn, or, as Lovino had put it, 'ripped to shreds right before a fuck-frenzy'. The skirts were so fluffy, but their hems were appallingly short. It took Feliciano a second or two to remember that this was the point. Sometimes Kiku's demeanor gave the sordid little shop an air that made one forget what, exactly, was sold there.

Kiku appeared to think about this pensively, not leaving his post behind the cash register. "I did not do much. My family is coming to visit this week. I have been preparing for that ordeal." Feliciano loved the way Kiku spoke. His cadence was so elegant, and no matter what he said, his stoic expression made it even more fascinating to listen to him than if he had gesticulated wildly or made faces, as Feliciano himself often did when he spoke.

"That should be fun!" said Feliciano cheerfully. He wondered why Kiku always spoke of his family's visits like they were dreaded. He had all of these brothers that took care of him, and even _sisters. _How badly Feliciano had wanted a sister growing up. "Tell Mei that I say hello," he added, grinning. This was in reference to the younger of Kiku's sisters, and in Feliciano's opinion, the prettiest and nicest.

Kiku nodded. "I will," he said, which probably meant he wouldn't. Feliciano occasionally felt like Kiku did his best to shield his family from the citizens of Verona. This, to be fair, was probably warranted. People could be crazy, and at any rate, Feliciano had even been accused of flirting with Mei on occasion, though, that was pretty laughable within itself, since she had even asked him once if he 'preferred' boys. Feliciano remembered, now, that he had never actually answered her.

Feliciano sighed, sitting down on a nearby folding chair that was kept outside of the dressing rooms. "My weekend," he began, already taking a deep breath to begin telling Kiku, "was crazy." He noticed Kiku turn around now, facing him. That was the nice thing about Kiku. Even if you were talking too much or too loudly, he would never be the one to tell you himself. Lovino had always complained about it, but Feliciano found it an admirable trait, to know when not to speak.

At any rate, he continued his story. "So I went to one of Francis's parties, si?" Oh, now he was doing 'that thing' that Lovino always told him not to do. Apparently you spoke Italian at home, English in front of people who could speak it, and you never, ever mixed the two. Well, that was too bad, Feliciano thought, and even then it had only registered for about a second before Feliciano went on. "And, I was just minding my own business when this voice told me to go to the alleyway. So I did, and it turned out to be a ghost. But he led me to this alley, and clearly there was a vampire there, but it was weird. Like, he didn't smell like a vampire, and he kind of didn't feel like one, but there he was. And," Feliciano added, pulling down his collar to show Kiku the evidence, "I kind of let him feed from me," he finished.

Kiku was slightly pale, but other than that he had not said a word as Feliciano had told his story. Now, he was done, and he waited for Kiku's commentary. It did not come until after a slight pause, and a few seconds later.

"You saw a ghost?" he asked. "A ghost led you to meet a vampire?" The question struck Feliciano as uncanny (it had been better than Lovino's questioning, at any rate) but he nodded in the affirmative.

"Yes," he said, "and they acted kinda like I do with Lovi. Only, they couldn't have been brothers because ghostliness aside, they looked nothing alike." He recalled the ghost's fiercely red eyes and wondered if they had been a fixture in life, or afterlife, or for that matter being a vampire. Yes, now he remembered: he hadn't been a ghost, he'd been a vampire ghost, of all things. And his name...what had it been? G, G, something with a G...then Feliciano snapped his fingers in triumph.

"Gilbert!" he explained, and he swore Kiku jumped.

"W-what?" he asked, almost stuttering. Feliciano tilted his head.

"That was the ghost's name. The vampire ghost, I mean. Gilbert. Gilbert the ghost," he finished. The name had a lovely ring to it. Gilbert the ghost. It was painfully catchy. Then Feliciano noticed that Kiku still had not said anything. "What's wrong? Do you know a Gilbert or something?" It was very unlikely that Kiku knew the German-sounding vampire ghost named Gilbert, thought Feliciano. Though he had to admit to himself that he sounded terribly fascinating, when described like that. Whereas he himself was merely an Italian lyc, and those were more or less common if you knew where to look.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt," said Kiku, and Feliciano frowned, because the name did in fact sound familiar. Had Gilbert given a last name? No, that wasn't right...but who...Feliciano frowned, and blinked a few times. His memory was so hazy of that night...

"You know what," began Feliciano, "I don't think that's right. I think that was the vampire's name." When he said it, he felt like he was right, because he had to be. Ludwig the vampire had given his last name; Gilbert the ghost had not. Then he frowned. "How did you know that, though? The last name?"

Kiku sighed. He was paler, now, than he had been. "I know the Beilschmidts. They are not what you would call a lucky family." Kiku pulled stool up so that it was behind the cash register, and sat down. "Yes, I know Gilbert. That is his last name, Beilschmidt. He does have a brother. Ludwig. Was that the vampire you met?"

Feliciano nodded. "Yes. He was the one he bit me," he added, instantly unsure of why he would have to specify that it was the vampire who had drank his blood. Kiku did not say anything.

"I didn't know Gilbert had been...ah..." Kiku frowned. "When I last saw him, he was alive. Alive for a vampire," he added. "I had lived in Germany for a time before coming here. I met Gilbert, and I knew his brother as well. Gilbert must have..he.." Kiku sighed again, and Feliciano fidgeted in his seat. Suddenly, he felt a surge of discomfort from bringing this whole thing up at all. "Gilbert had a lot of enemies."

After a few moments of silence had passed, Feliciano looked up at Kiku. "You said they were unlucky," he said. "How so?" He didn't know why he had asked, and to be fair it was probably rather nosy, but Feliciano did not take the question back.

Kiku shook his head. "I do not know Gilbert's brother that well. He carries himself like a cursed man. Gilbert, however, has a story." When Feliciano looked at him, almost expectantly, Kiku frowned. "Another day," he said, and Feliciano knew that this meant he would never find out Gilbert's story, or, for that matter, Ludwig's story. But then again, he scarcely knew Gilbert, and as for Ludwig, maybe he didn't have a story at all. Maybe he was just the kind of person who didn't feed with discretion, and would now have to live with the stigma of having bitten a lyc. Then Feliciano noticed that he had called Ludwig a person, rather than a vampire. He wondered what this meant before deciding to change the subject.

"In any case," began Feliciano, "my Moon's coming up." Kiku turned around once more, having moved the stool and returned to standing alert at the cash register. He faced Feliciano.

"Ah!" said Kiku, his face lighting up with recognition as their conversation veered back to the ordinary. "I will be back, I have to go in the storage room to get what you need." Kiku left his post and headed that way, where Feliciano could have followed him if he had really wanted to, but did not.

"Yay, restraints!" he said, nearly laughing at the abusurdity of the outburst as soon as it left his mouth. He noticed that the 'yay', the syllable as stretched out as it had been, harmonized with the sound of the store's bell, which only rang when the front door was open. So there was a customer who had heard him say 'yay, restraints!', then. It would have worried Feliciano, but he visited Kiku enough to be on a first name basis with most of his clientele. And if he didn't, they were still visiting a sex toy shop, so it probably didn't matter if they'd heard him or not.

"Ciao!" he called, not standing up. "This is Feli! Kiku's in the back right now." He felt inexplicably lucky, in that he assumed he was talking to someone who was not a stranger. Feliciano thought for a moment, paused, and then added, "Let me know if I can help you find something!"

"You work here?" Feliciano turned around abruptly at the voice. The funny thing was that his first thought (which he quickly dismissed) was the correct one. 'That is Ludwig,' he thought at once, recognizing the accent and tone of the voice immediately, but then he thought about it and realized that no, the vampire he had met in that alleyway would most certainly not be at a sex shop, of all things, and that was just silly. Feliciano was about to laugh, as he always did from nerves or embarrassment, when he looked up and saw that, in point of fact, Ludwig the vampire was at a sex shop.

"W-what...me?" he stammered. Suddenly, Feliciano felt incredibly small and defenseless, and he gripped the arms of the chair tightly. It took him a second to remember the question. "No! Oh, oh my goodnes...no, no, no. Kiku is my friend." He was able to relax upon conveying this, and he slightly loosened his grip on the char. Then Feliciano tilted his head. "You shop here?" he asked.

"No!" exclaimed Ludwig, and unlike Feliciano, he had actually sounded defensive. Feliciano could swear that Ludwig's face was the tiniest bit red, and he had to cover his mouth with his hand because the sight actually made him smirk. Sure, Ludwig made him act socially awkward, but that was different. Vampires made you weak at the knees whether you wanted it or not. Lycs, on the other hand, had no such power, or at least none that he knew of. In actuality, the realization almost made Feliciano laugh out loud, but not in a mean or nasty way. However, the smile was gone in a flash when he saw that Ludwig was glowering down at him.

"I do not _shop_ here," he said, matter-of-factly. "I am looking for Kiku Honda. You said he is employed here?" Any awkwardness his voice had conveyed was gone, and now that his voice had the same icy tone it had in the alleyway, Feliciano shrank back in the chair, and he was sure that the warmth in his cheeks meant that he was the one blushing now.

"Kiku's b-back there," he stammered, gesturing to the backroom. "He's getting me r-" Suddenly, admitting to buying restraints, no matter how innocent the purpose, felt incredibly _wrong_. "He's getting restraints. For someone. I don't know who," said Feliciano, far too quickly to sound even remotely convincing. Feliciano was not a good liar.

Almost on cue, Kiku returned to the main storefront. "Ah, Feliciano-chan," he began, "I have these for you-" He stopped abruptly upon seeing Ludwig.

"Kiku Honda," he said, his voice all business. Feliciano looked from Kiku to Ludwig, and he decided to stay in the chair and hope no one would notice him.

"Ludwig-san, hello," said Kiku, setting the box of restraints on the floor. Feliciano glanced at it, then quickly looked away. "What brings you to Verona?"

Ludwig looked away briefly before answering. "Actually, Gilbert wanted to come here for some reason or another, and we needed a place to stay for a while. Gilbert knows people in Verona, and we have since found a house here. As for my visit, I had heard that you had taken up residence here, but it didn't occur to me until recently to look you up." Kiku appeared to accept this answer.

"Well, it is very nice to see you again." At first, Feliciano thought that Ludwig was going to leave, since he had clearly already talked to Kiku and, therefore, had no apparent reason to stay. And it had even seemed like he'd been doing that, walking towards the door, when Kiku did something very strange. Feliciano hadn't noticed it at all, in fact, until he heard the door to the storage room slam shut, and he realized that he was alone with Ludwig in the storefront.

"So," he said. He was now standing. Feliciano hated silence, and now found himself pacing, before eventually deciding to sit on the counter. It was what Kiku got for leaving him; normally, Kiku would have smacked him for blatantly breaking a rule such as that one, but Kiku wasn't there, so Feliciano did not feel guilty. He swung his legs back and forth, the backs of his ankles slamming against the front of the counter.

Ludwig was facing him now. "You are friends with Kiku?" He seemed genuinely curious, so Feliciano nodded.

"Yes," he said. "He's a family friend." He continued to swing his legs.

"He was a friend of my brother's," said Ludwig, and Feliciano was genuinely at a loss for words.

"Your brother," repeated Feliciano. It took him a second to remember that Gilbert from the alleyway was related to Ludwig. The thought struck him as odd. "Right, Gilbert. The ghost," he said, nodding. He swore for a half of a second he had seen Ludwig smirk, but it was probably his imagination.

"He hates when people call him that," he said matter-of-factly. "'Gilbert the Ghost'. Apparently, there are children in the neighborhood who are able to see him, and have taken to calling him that. It drives him up a wall." Feliciano covered his mouth with his hand once more to keep from giggling. When he saw the look this got him from Ludwig (not a very nice one) he apologized.

"I am sorry," he said, and he winced slightly from the glare. "It's just, your brother reminds me of my brother. Lovino. It's a shame I can't come up with a nickname for him, but 'Lovino' and 'demon' don't start with the same letter." Oh, maybe he shouldn't have said that. Then again, actual 'demons' were fairly rare, so maybe Ludwig would think he meant the word in a nasty way.

"He is probably not that bad," said Ludwig, and it surprised Feliciano to hear. Weren't vampires supposed to look down on humans? He had always grown up thinking vampires were snobs. It was interesting to meet one who didn't seem to be.

"He's not," admitted Feliciano, and he let the topic drop. "I have a question," he added as an afterthought. "It's mid-afternoon. How did you come here without...ah..." To his knowledge, vampires, indeed, burned upon contact with the sunlight, but he had never witnessed this firsthand.

"I walked in the sewers, which led me to another house of mine equipped with plumbing. Then from there, I was able to come here in a short amount of time." Another house? Why was it that all vampires apparently had an endless supply of money? It wasn't fair, he thought. But then again, if he had to travel in the sewers, he would probably want to have running water too, if only so he wouldn't walk around smelling disgusting. Maybe sometime he would ask Ludwig why every vampire in Verona seemed to be filthy rich.

"Though, that information is not exactly your business," he heard Ludwig add, and Feliciano frowned and squirmed on the countertop. The statement made him feel like he had been snooping, when in actuality he had just been curious.

"Sorry," he said, now looking away. Feliciano frowned, and looked at the storage room. Where was Kiku? What was taking him so long? It was so rare for him to leave the cash register for any given amount of time. "Kiku should be back," he said out loud.

Ludwig nodded. "Right. Well, I should probably be going." Feliciano could swear that the statement made him disappointed, but all the same, the nervous, tied-up feeling in his stomach would probably go away once Ludwig left, and therefore it was probably for the best that he did.

"Right. Of course. I should too, actually. My brother will wonder why I've been gone. I left a note, of course, but it is almost dusk, now," he said, glancing out of the tinted windows. They made the store darker even on the inside, but he could still see that it was no longer afternoon.

Feliciano glanced at Ludwig (he wasn't sure why, since they weren't really talking anymore) and saw that he was looking at him...almost oddly. Like he was examining him. Feliciano frowned, stepping down from Kiku's counter, but not taking a step further away from it.

"We can leave together. If you want." Feliciano's eyes widened in shock as he processed what Ludwig was saying, and he continued to listen. "I am not going to harm you, and you will be home before your brother can notice." Feliciano very much doubted this, because in all liklihood Lovino had already noticed, but he was stunned into silence. "Feliciano? Is that how you pronounce it?" The name, pronounced correctly, still sounded peculiar leaving Ludwig's lips. Maybe because he could not remember giving him a name. He must have heard it from Kiku, or maybe somewhere else.

"Yes," he said. "That is how you pronounce it." His voice was terribly shaky, and he instinctively reached for his rosary, but did not want to take it out. Not there. "And if you wish me to accompany you, I will-" Already Feliciano's English had begun to sound almost archaic in its formality. When Feliciano was nervous, all of his years of listening to natives speak the language went out of the window, and he reverted to textbook English, which he had learned far before there were actual textbooks of any kind. "-I will obey your will." The sentence made him flush, if only because of the connotations the word 'obey' seemed to have, but it was too late, and all he could do was stand there.

Indeed, Ludwig blinked in what looked like surprise. "In that case, we can leave now. Unless you wish to say goodbye to Kiku?" Right, Kiku. Feliciano had nearly forgotten.

"Ciao, Kiku!" he called, as he ran out the door. He would wait for Ludwig outside, since he hadn't ran outside spastically as Feliciano had done. He didn't care. He closed his eyes, breathing in the dusk air, and tried desperately to calm himself down. After all, it was only a walk with a strange vampire, right? Yes, a walk. Feliciano walked at night often, so what made this different? Just another person, just like he had dreamed. He rubbed, almost self-consciously, at the wound on his neck. And then he had the strangest thought, but when he heard the bell of The Wet Banana ring, and he saw Ludwig now standing next to him, he abandoned it. Feliciano decided that it was probably weird to ask someone if your blood had tasted good, so he gave it no more thought, and followed Ludwig down the street, in the opposite direction from his house. Surely he would be home soon enough.

* * *

><p>AN: Man, I am so glad people like this story! I hope you know it's going to be insanely long...<p>

Some things:

-This was actually meant to be a royally longer chapter, one that included the walk Feliciano and Ludwig go on, but that would have been weirdly long so it'll be in the next chapter.

-I am aware that most Catholics do not name their rosaries, or call them 'she'. I know that it's weird, and most of them probably don't even use their rosaries once they've memorized the prayer. But I like 'Florence's' role in the story so I'm not changing it.

-Yeah, I've given the story a setting and it's Verona. I know that the whole 'vampires in Verona' thing is pretty overdone, but Verona is a pretty-sounding city and I like it, plus I wanted Lovino to have a legitimate excuse to have a dislike for 'foreigners'. Well, maybe he doesn't have an excuse, but at least the comment makes more sense now.

-Finally, yes, you will find out about Lovino's story regarding his demonism. And yes, you will find out about Gilbert's story as well. Because there is one, and holy Hell, let there be angst. :) Which reminds me, for a story that has a setting of a sex shop for a chapter, this story will in fact get a little angstier.

I really hope you enjoy Do Werewolves Go To Heaven? because I've had the best time writing it, even if chapter updates take me forever. I already have the plot, now all I need to do is actually, you know, write it. OTL

Ciao for now,

Nadie


	6. Chapter 5

Feliciano had always been fascinated with the moon. Perhaps arbitrarily, he chose to believe that his attraction to it went beyond his lycanthropy, but on some level he knew that this was most likely why he even noticed it one way or the other. The only time looking at the moon was not relaxing was when it was full, and even then, this was rather rare because Feliciano did not like to risk being out at night when the moon was full, unless it was already waning.

And so, as he walked next to Ludwig, Feliciano found himself staring at the moon. It made him slightly less nervous, though it did little to quell the fact that he could feel his rapid pulse in his neck, nor did it particularly make him feel any less queasy. No, the moon's effect was chiefly mental, because physically, Feliciano was as nervous as he had been when he had left Kiku's store.

"Are you okay?"

The voice jolted Feliciano out of his thoughts, and he flinched. "What?" he stammered. The question made him feel self-conscious, like his sheer anxiety was not only noticeable, but insultingly obvious. "I am fine," he added as an afterthought, noticing too late that his English was still far too formal for the sake of conversation.

He felt Ludwig looking at him. "I can hear your heartbeat," he said, and it took Feliciano a second to realize that, to a human, that probably would have been incredibly shocking. Vampires were reknowned for their fantastic hearing, of course, but lycanthropes had hearing of a fairly close, if not equal, ability. In particular, Feliciano did not pay the slightest bit of attention to heartbeats, but he probably could have heard them if it had ever occurred to him to listen. However, now that he really thought about it, he didn't like the idea of Ludwig hearing his heartbeat. It made him feel exposed.

"A lycanthrope's heart beats at nearly five times the rate of a human heart," stammered Feliciano. Instantly he regretted it; what an odd thing to say to somebody. "If you were wondering," he added, knowing full well that Ludwig had most certainly not been wondering, because who would? He decided to change the subject. "Where is it, exactly, that we are going?"

Ludwig took a long time to answer, but they kept walking even as Ludwig continued to consider this. "This is the way to get to my house," he said, "but right now I actually have a place in mind. It's hard to explain." Feliciano knew this part of town very well, so he decided that it didn't matter.

"Okay," he said, and he could swear Ludwig looked surprised.

They were silent for about a minute (Ludwig sure was quiet, Feliciano couldn't help but think) before Ludwig spoke again. "Tell me," he said, "how long have you been afflicted with lycanthropy?"

Hearing that word from Ludwig caught him off guard, because it didn't seem like something a vampire would say. Though it was well-known that vampires tended to have a general sense of superiority when it came to werewolves, it was rare for one to go so far as to call the state of being one a disease. This was because, in essence, admitting that lycanthropy was an illness was to imply that vampirism was, too, something that a creature as vain as a standard vampire would never admit. No, primarily only humans said things like that. To do so was considered something along the lines of a slur, an epithet, and while 'affliction' wasn't quite going that far, it was closer than Feliciano had ever heard from a vampire.

Ignoring this, however, Feliciano thought carefully before responding. He felt like he had to watch himself around Ludwig, as if he were on the brink of offending him. "I'm not sure," he admitted. He knew the year, of course, but as for how _many _years it had been, he did not know. "It's been so long...I never thought to count," he said truthfully. "In any case, I am very old. I must be at least a century old." It suddenly struck him as odd that people had the tendency to describe him as 'naive', with this in mind. Because he was so old, and he should have known everything, but at the same time, there was so much that everyone else seemed to just _know _that Feliciano did not.

Ludwig's voice brought him out of his reverie. "You can't be much older than I am. I was turned in the 1800s." 1850, thought Feliciano instinctively. Maybe they were around the same age. "I was turned when I was 18. I have been told that I look older," and with this, he smirked for a millisecond, which Feliciano found both unnerving and strangely...attractive was probably the wrong word, he thought, and he resolved to find a better one when he had the opportunity.

"I was turned young. 16, but I kept growing until I was about 18," he said, and, stealing a glance at Ludwig, he noted that for two 18 year olds (if that was an accurate statement) they didn't look much alike at all. Feliciano had a painfully tiny figure; this, he knew, and had been forced to admit to himself. It would be a stretch to call it feminine, because it wasn't, but he'd been told more often than he'd care to admit that his slightly-larger-than-average eyes, tiny waist, and slim figure made him look 'cute' as opposed to 'handsome'. Then there was the way he walked...no, not 'walked'; 'bounced.' He couldn't help it.

But Ludwig was an entirely different creature...literally, of course, but also in the sense of physical appearances alone. He was tall. His shoulders were broad. Being a vampire, his skin ran slightly paler than the average human, but it didn't detract from his overall appearance. Maybe if Feliciano wasn't a lyc, he would have mistaken him for human. As it stood, however, his vampirism was pretty blatant, as was the case with most vampires. Besides their eyes, you could see it in the way they walked; tall, and with purpose. Feliciano was not sure how lycanthropes walked.

He noticed, now, that he recognized exactly where they were going. Feliciano felt his blood run cold. He hadn't been back there since...well, probably since it had actually happened, although he had come very close to making the journey back to where he'd been turned several times. Only in his dreams did he ever dare to stray that far away from town. Was Ludwig's home really so far from the heart of Verona? He wondered if he'd get home on time. But of course he would. Feliciano would run if he had to, rather than lose Lovino's trust for the umpteenth time. (It was such a fragile little thing, and ridiculously hard to earn.)

Now that he thought about it, _of course _this was where they were going. Where else? Oh, Feliciano could be absent-minded sometimes, he knew (how, for instance, had he missed the salty air of the docks, or the familiar tune that always played when one walked through Arcadia?) but now he was keenly aware of his surroundings. They were walking-around, not through-Bella Ovunque, or Beautiful Everywhere. The antique shop. And from a mile away, or maybe a little less, Feliciano could see the gazebo. It was shining in the moonlight, he could swear.

"How..?" Feliciano said, his voice coming out the tiniest bit breathier than he would have preferred. His fingers were at his neck again, the side that Ludwig hadn't touched, and he pressed them firmly so he could feel his pulse. "There is absolutely no way that you could have known this." He turned to face Ludwig. "Who told you? Was it Kiku? I do not remember telling him, but I must have, because for you to _know_ is just, I just-"

"Calm down!" Feliciano registered the phrase. He blinked once or twice. Had Ludwig been saying it as a statement or a command? It didn't seem to matter either way; Feliciano was too taken aback to be calm. Ludwig was shaking his head, almost out of confusion, but he seemed irritated more than anything. "I do not know 'anything'. What are you talking about?" And Feliciano knew he would have to explain.

"It was where I was turned," he said. His tone was almost deadpan, lacking any emotion to it, because over the years he'd found that the best way to deal with the memories of his siring (which was a term only used for vampires; there was no word for werewolves) was to simply not think about them. In any case, it was a fact: where they were now was indeed where he was turned. "I don't come here very often. I used to love the gazebo," he said. Something about being here made him want to keep talking, to fill the silence, to quell the massive awkwardness he felt.

The air was chilly, the moon was shining so brightly that it was hard to see the stars, and Feliciano could not stop talking. Even worse was what he was babbling about-that, and the fact that all Ludwig did was listen.

"Do you know that Italy has one of the highest rates of both vampirism and lycanthropy in the world?", and Ludwig did not even humor him with a 'yes' or a 'no'. And yet, there he still stood.

"Were you aware that the first recorded vampire was somewhere in the Roman Empire?" Ludwig seemed almost interested, and he was still standing there. Feliciano was almost appalled that he had not left.

"And did you know that werewolves have an impeccably high rate of sexual desire? An average lycanthrope derives an amount of pleasure rivaling the human orgasm from acts typically categorized as foreplay," and the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Of course, I wouldn't know. Firsthand, I mean. I heard it from an acquaintance of mine."

This time, Ludwig spoke (and the expression on his face was nearly impossible to read, but Feliciano was far too shocked by the fact that he was still speaking to him at all to analyze it thoroughly). "You're a virgin?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. It took Feliciano about half a second to register the blatant discomfort in Ludwig's voice. His face was stoic; his tone was not. Feliciano could faintly register a difference in his breathing, and it made a warmth go down Feliciano's spine.

"Yes," he said, the truth coming out far too easily. "I'll find the right girl eventually. Or so I have been told." His tone was quiet now, and Feliciano looked away. He didn't want to see if Ludwig, too, bore an expression of skepticism (as most people did when Feliciano made such a statement-people were so judgmental, without even knowing _anything_). He traced a line in the grass with his shoe. "Or perhaps the right girl will find me eventually. I'm not sure what I've been doing wrong," he admitted. Because he'd certainly tried enough times.

And before he could stop himself, he was confiding far too much into this strange vampire he did not even know. "It's not even like I've never had girls be interested in me before-you know, like that?" Now he was facing Ludwig. He did not notice the discomfort etched on his face. "Because I have. There was Alexandria from Athens, and Lily from Rome." He went on, naming girls who had always flirted with him. Girls whose flirtation he would invariably pretend not to register. "Amber from Milan, Regina from London, Vera from Khimki-"

Ludwig interrupted him. "Is there a point to this?" He almost sounded _angry. _And wouldn't that be strange; Feliciano did not even know him, so why on Earth was he being so...he couldn't think of the word, but it was peculiar to say the least. He blinked.

"Yes," he said, softly. "There's a point." He sighed, shuffling his feet in the grass. He hadn't actually wanted to get to the point. Reminiscing about those girls (all of them beautiful, all of them special, all of their names bringing fond memories to mind) had been nice. But Feliciano had started; now he had to finish. "The point is that I never liked them back. Not in the way that they liked me." And it was true. He'd loved them all in some way or another, but it was never enough. More to the point, it was never what they wanted. Breaking their hearts had broken his heart-though, to call it 'heartbreak' was overdramatic. It implied that they'd gotten to know him at all, which none of them had.

It was then that it ocurred to Feliciano: once again, he'd said too much. Despite the freezing chill the night air had, Feliciano was warm all over. It wasn't a pleasant warmth at all; it made him uncomfortable, and he shifted on his feet. Perhaps what made him so uncomfortable was the fact that Ludwig had not spoken at all throughout this. Feliciano couldn't help but take this detail and run it through his mind over and over again. He'd said too much. Of course he had. He'd seen things that were not there. Misplaced his trust in Ludwig. Worst of all was the fact that he'd thought Ludwig was like him at all. But he wasn't. He was a vampire, and maybe they really didn't have hearts-

"I have to go."

Feliciano could not think of anything to say to this. He was frozen with shock. "Che cosa?" he stammered, not even repeating it in English. All of the questions he wanted to ask (was it something I said? are you coming back? why did you bring me here if you're just going to leave?) did not come out. He could only nod, as if Ludwig had asked him a yes or no question. Finally, he just said, "okay," as if that were even accurate. It didn't occur to Feliciano to ask himself why he felt so dependent on this not-even-human. Lycanthropes didn't even need humans, let alone vampires, did they?

"Okay," he repeated, and he stood at the top of the hill, in the gazebo. Feliciano turned away, willing himself to feel apathy when Ludwig left. That was when he ran; he wasn't going to risk being home late for something that was dead. All he could feel was a sort of regret that he'd placed his trust in something that didn't have a soul. Feliciano could be so naive sometimes.

AN: Sad chapter is sad! Sorry for the blatant teasing, but I couldn't make it that easy for them! Don't worry. Things get better, I promise.

I also apologize for the wait; I've been in a play and have had no time to write. Not to worry, the next chapter should be up soon, as it is already in progress.

Thank you very kindly for the reviews, favorites, author/story alerts! I've had so much fun writing this and can't wait to continue! I love everyone very much!

With all my love,

Nadie


	7. Chapter 6

Feliciano was playing with his food. Mostly because he wasn't hungry; he was somewhat nauseous, had been all morning, and the prospect of eating wasn't exactly a pleasant one. But today Antonio had cooked, which meant that Feliciano had to at least pretend to eat, or risk incurring his wrath-or at least, incurring his overprotectiveness.

"Are you sure you're healthy, Feli?" So he'd noticed. Felicano looked up at Antonio, whose expression was now one of concern. "Because normally you eat a lot more than this, and your Moon is coming up. It's not healthy to go without eating." That was another reason why it was a good idea to eat your breakfast if Antonio was there; he'd stop a perfectly good conversation at five minute intrevals to tellyou to eat something. Worse, Feliciano was afraid he'd actually worrried Antonio. (Lovino, on the other hand, just looked angry, but it was early in the morning and in any case this was rather typical.)

"I am fine," he said, forcing a smile. He didn't know how convincing it was. "I'm sure I'll eat more later. It's just early, that's all." Antonio did not know anything of 'the incident', which was shocking to Feliciano because he'd assumed that Lovino would be quick to spread it around. Only when he gave it more thought did he realize that this would never happen, that Antonio of all people would never find out. In short, 'the incident' reflected poorly on Lovino, and if Antonio were to find out about it, it would guarantee that he'd never leave their house again. And on top of all that, even Lovino didn't know about what had happened at Kiku's, or what had happened after.

"As long as you eat at lunch," said Antonio, and Feliciano knew he was fine. Not eating breakfast was one thing, since in Verona (and especially Spain, where Antonio was originally from) breakfasts were relatively small compared to those of other places, or so he'd heard. Not eating lunch would be something else entirely, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. Or he'd make sure to be gone by lunchtime.

"So Feli," said Lovino, jabbing his fork in his direction, "didn't you go to Kiku's to pick up your lycan shit yesterday?" Feliciano blinked, utterly shocked, until he remembered that he'd left a note.

"Yes?" He said it like a question. "I mean, yes. I did. Why do you ask?" He considered taking a bite of the toast on his plate just to have something to occupy himself with, but he didn't.

"I ask because I got a phone call today from Kiku today. Says you forgot to take your 'delivery' home with you." _Merda! _(He didn't mean to think it, it just happened.) Of course he had. He'd left the store with _that vampire_ and he'd totally forgotten to take his things with him. That was typical. He was more frustrated than anything (he'd gotten the crying part over with on the way back home, to the point where his tears had all but left once he'd crossed the threshold of his home) until he wondered what, exactly, Kiku might have told Lovino.

"Did I?" he asked. He took a long sip of the freshly-squeezed orange juice and pretended to consider this. "I guess you're right," he mused. "I'll have to go back into town later and get them."

"Damn right you will," said Lovino. "He wanted me to come get them, said you were too 'absent-minded' to be trusted with running errands." Lovino, who was actually eating, took angry bites of his toast in between paragraph breaks. "But I said, 'fuck that'! I told him, "My brother may be an idiot, but he knows how to buy his kinky werewolf shit! He's been doing it for years! Decades, even!" Feliciano watched as he took a long sip of his coffee and slammed it down on the table. Normally he'd have at least put up a half-hearted argument about how (since he didn't use it for anything sexual) his restraints weren't at all kinky, but today he lacked the energy. "So yes, you 'will' have to go back into town later. I'm not your errand boy."

Antonio, who up to this point had seemed to find the whole exchange amusing, now had his 'concerned face' back on. "Lovi, do you think Feli needs to be leaving the house? He doesn't seem well." But Feliciano didn't want Lovino talking to Kiku. Sure, so far he hadn't appeared to say anything incriminating, but knowing Lovino, he'd go in there and ask something like, 'how could my brother be so stupid?' and it would only be a matter of time before he _knew_. And that would be too much for Feliciano to bear.

"I'm fine, 'Toni," he said, making sure his smile was wider and more genuine looking. "Really, I am. Just 'cos I'm not hungry doesn't mean I'm sick."

Lovino nodded in agreement. "For God's sake, Antonio, the little shit is _fine. _Fine like always. His immune system is constantly working overtime to keep his dumb ass alive, and he didn't catch anything from-" Feliciano watched as he stopped himself from saying 'that vampire', which, had Antonio not been there, Feliciano knew he would have said. "-Francis's party, so he's in perfectly good condition to run errands."

Antonio considered this. "Well, as long as he eats a good lunch," he said, and Feliciano knew everything would be fine.

* * *

><p>Feliciano was in his room, lying on his bed and dangling Florence above him, when he heard the door opened and he jumped.<p>

"Who's there?" he asked, bolting to an upright position and dropping Florence into his hands. He relaxed when he saw Antonio standing in the doorway.

"It's only me. May I come in?" He came in anyway, sitting down on the bed next to him. Feliciano blinked and nodded.

"What is it, Antonio?"

Antonio sighed, as if he wasn't entirely sure how to start. "You've really been worrying me lately, Feli..you seemed fine at breakfast, and then you come up here and play with.." Antonio, being a stricter Catholic than Feliciano, always showed discomfort at referencing Florence by her name, "..your rosario. Which you only do when you're nervous." Feliciano nodded ever-so-slightly, his silent way of conceding that this was true.

"Antonio," began Feliciano, carefully, "do vampires have souls?" He twisted Florence in his hands and looked up at him. This hadn't been worrying him it all (so what if vampires didn't have souls, that wasn't his problem) and yet, it came out before he could stop it, the words spilling out of his mouth and out of control.

Antonio sighed and appeared to consider this. Feliciano considered telling him 'nevermind', to just drop it, but the words wouldn't come out. He kicked his heels against the bed's frame as he waited. Finally, Antonio began to speak.

"You have been raised very well when it comes to protecting yourself against los muertos," he began. Antonio never referred to vampires as anything other than _los muertos_, the dead. "Your brother has tried very hard to make sure you know the threat that they can be. I have tried to make sure you know the facts about them. Even Francis, who is only half-dead, mind, has tried his hardest to make sure you know that los muertos are not to be toyed with, or spoken to if they're strangers, or anything like this. You know all of this," and Feliciano did know all of this, and Antonio's avoidance of the question made his stomach churn.

"I do not pretend to know everything there is to know about the occult. I do not know if dying sends your soul to Heaven or Hell, and if los muertes have a soul waiting for them there. I don't know if they keep their souls inside of them, where they're very hard to see or even know about it. And I say this, Feli, because most of the ones you meet won't _act _like they have a soul. They are cold. They are cruel. They are selfish. Most of them have one or all of these traits, you see, it's almost part of the siring. It is almost like, rather than blood flowing through their veins, a sort of hatred for all things living runs through them instead. But does this mean that, underneath all of that, los muertos are souless? I believe _no_." Feliciano heard himself make a tiny gasping noise that revealed his shock.

Antonio had this sad smile on his face now. "I do not pretend to know everything," he repeated, "but I've never met anyone, even someone dead, who seemed to not have a soul." Feliciano could swear he saw doubt flicker across Antonio's face. "The only person I've met that even came close was a very powerful wizard, but even he probably has a soul deep down. I would rather believe that he does." Feliciano felt a shiver go down his spine at the notion that someone could be souless, but then the joy of hearing that maybe, just maybe, vampires could have souls came back to them. Because if a vampire had a soul, then he had to have a heart. (Antonio, however, didn't need to hear that part of the story. Everyone has a story, he realized, recalling Kiku's words from the shop.)

"Is that what was worrying you, Feli?" Antonio kissed him on the head, a tiny, affectionate little gesture, and got up to leave. "Don't worry yourself with vampires, Feliciano. Probably you will never have to meet one up close." The door was open, and Feliciano tried to manage his smile so that it was not suspiciously large. "Did you have any other questions for me?"

"Just one," he said, still smiling. "What about lycs? Do we have souls?"

Antonio laughed, a happy, twinkly laugh. "Of course you have a soul. If you do not have a soul, then it's unlikely that I do either. Or the dead," he added, and Feliciano smiled wider.

"So I do have a soul! 'Cos I was wondering," he said through his laughter. "I was asking myself, 'do werewolves go to Heaven?' And I thought to ask you." Feliciano felt so much better, he almost felt like dancing.

"Then why did you put los muertos before yourself?" asked Antonio before closing the door. He'd been joking, but the question gave him pause, and before he knew it (though his mood was on the whole better) he found himself needing a minute or two with Florence before he could go out to Kiku's again.

AN: Oh look, another short chapter. Don't worry, everyone's favorite socially-awkward vampire will be back for the next time. This was meant to be tacked on to the last update but that seemed odd to me, so that didn't happen. Yeah, this was meant to be up sooner but I've had driver's ed and real life got in the way. Hopefully over break I can get more writing done! :D

It may just seem like pointless heartthob angst, but don't worry; the conflict of the story doesn't come from Feli actually getting a love interest for the first time in a century or so. If it did, it'd be a short story. Suffice it to say, there's another character coming up soon that will give Feli a problem besides unresolved sexual tension. (Hint: this chapter has foreshadowing for what that might be! And it's not subtle!)

Okay, thanks so much for reading. I love all of you so very much.

XOXO,

Nadie

Edit: A million and one 'thank you's to megagirl3, who corrected my Spanish. I'm a year 3 spanish student but I always make mistakes OTL Anyway, it's been fixed!~


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